Alien Captive

Prologue

Prologue

Phoenix's POV

My favorite story as a child was called Yershies-- How they died.

It was about a group of women called the Yershies who spend most of their lives searching the seven galaxies for their soul mates, and when they found them they would bring them back to their home planet where they'd sleep with them for the first time while enjoying a night of festivities to celebrate their good fortune.

But as the moon sank and the sun rose above the land the next day the men would wake up chained to posts in the town, naked. Each woman would slowly and painfully torture her soul mate before eventually dismembering him while he was still conscious. It was said that the cries of these men were the offerings given to the horned god of war, Capricious. This was the Yershie's way of proving to their god that they loved none but him. The ultimate sacrifice was to kill one's soul mate in the most gruesome way possible, it was said that doing so would give the killer great power and favor in her god's eyes.

I found the book in the nonfiction section of my dad's study as a child, drawn to the colorful binding. It was a tragic story littered with graphic descriptions of how the men died.

The title alone was probably a good indication that the book, which had been penned by a Yershies war soldier with a love for detailed descriptions of death, was not suitable for an impressionable six-year-old who was already obsessed with anything blood and gore related.

My mother used to read it to me every night anyway, despite father's protests. I think she did it just to piss him off. He believed that girls weren't supposed to be exposed to blood and gore, they were too delicate for that, their main focus should be on dresses and cooking and all things girly.

Mom, on the other hand, had been a hardcore feminist and realist who believed that it was best to expose her daughter to the horrors of the world from a tender age so that she knew what to expect if ever she was in one of those horrid situations.

She had tried to grow me tough and I would be eternally grateful for that. I saw it all, abuse, rape, death by beheading and much more... and I loved it. Of course, I only saw all of this on television and in books. At age seventeen was when I witnessed my first live killing. It was of my parents by a massive horned alien. Since then I found myself unable to stomach anything blood or gore related. My once favorite book had now become one of the things I hated most, coming right on the heels of aliens with horns.

The guard currently manning the slave cages had been reading a copy of the Yershies for two days now. Each time I saw the cover my stomach would spasm and bile would rise like a gurgling volcano to my throat. I couldn't stomach the memories that book brought up but I also couldn't let my mind wander to the fact that I was about to be sold to some unknown alien for him to do with me whatever he pleased. I had been instructed a good twenty minutes ago to get into position so that I could be inspected. Instructed was my modest word for it, more realistically I had been bullied and knocked onto my knees with a forceful shove from a guard.

Ten minutes in, I still hadn't been inspected and I wasn't looking forward to it at all. I was on my knees in front of a cage of huddling women who probably hadn't had a choice whether to be here or not. I had to remind myself that I chose to be here. I was here because I had had to pay back my debt to a pirate after I stole a very valuable gem from him despite the fact that he had been uncharacteristically kind enough to give me free passage to this backwater slave planet. Long story short, he found me, took back the gem before I could pawn it off, then he threatened to gut me like a fish if I didn't pay retribution. So I sold myself to a slaver for enough money to pay back my debt.

I didn't know what I expected when I decided to become a slave, my only concern at the time was how horrible it would be dying at the hands of a buck teeth alien with bad breath. I admit I hadn't been thinking that far until now. If I had been I would have realized that I was probably going to be sold to either some sick alien dude with a human fetish or sold to a workhouse... or a cookshop. Neither of those options was for me. I probably should have tried to escape...

My ears twitched at the sound of approaching footsteps. I kept my head low, not yet ready to face my new reality.